"Dear Bobby, I love you. I always look forward to when my husband leaves for work, and you sneak into bed with me. Sometimes, you will wake me up, but usually, you just lie there next to me waiting for my eyes to open." Bobby. You are a cat. But you are the cat of all cats. Unliked some others whose names I will not mention.... you like being a cat. You are my original Obi Kenobi... But you don't like your name and insist I call you "Bobby" or "Bob". You are my predator. You can catch anything- including a rabbit almost twice your size. I remember the time you brought a baby possum into our home. I had just awakened and sleepily headed to use the bathroom when, peering from inside the toilet, was a little possum begging to be released. You cheeky bastard, Bobby. That poor possum. I scolded you and you just turned the other whisker, as if to say "look lady... I am a cat, that's how I do...." The other cats beg for forgiveness when ...
My husband used to do something that took me a while to wrap my head around. I didn't know how to appraoch the situation for some time, and finally we sat down and had the discussion about his piling- and ever since things have been significantly better. Tonight I sat with my husband watching a confusing episode of LOST. My mind was wandering and I asked him pointedly "how long do you think you can put up with me not having a job?" His immediate response: "as long as it takes." Clearly, the question confused him. But I definitely feel like I'm on loser status. I wake up at 10:00. I stare at the wall and wonder what to do with the day. Yes, true- I manage to get stuff done. I am aggresively seeking employment, but I don't feel like I am contributing to society- or my household. And my husband reminded me that for quite some time he didn't have a job and it was me that supported him. Those first months when he immigrated from the U...
We say you're like a gorilla. Make no mistake: we think that's pretty much the best thing ever. I know as you get older one of the many, many things I will miss most is your extended belly. The round shape that sticks out so far and creates an imbalance as you toddle forth... a side-to-side heavy footed motion that thrusts you forward- reminding us of a gorilla. It doesn't help that you also squat like a gorilla. Surveying whatever is on the floor in front of you. Carefully examining, using small, delicate fingers to pick things up.... You're like a gorilla. For now. One day I will miss this gorilla stage terribly. I will remember it, think on it, tell you about it. I'll tell you about your first word at 9 months: "mama", and your second dada" at 11 months. You have progressed to word number 3... "wow". And it's almost as sweet sounding as ''mama' is. I'll tell you about all these things... Love, mommy.
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